


In Her Arms

by ClydeThistles



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClydeThistles/pseuds/ClydeThistles
Summary: Little piece written after seeing @riverstyxgoddess' adorable artwork featuring Tissaia and Rita on Tumblr.
Relationships: Margarita Laux-Antille/Tissaia de Vries
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	In Her Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RiverStyxGoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverStyxGoddess/gifts).



Tissaia adjusts her pendant and the folds in her skirt, her concentration meaning she does not hear the light footsteps coming up behind her. She would usually jump at an unexpected touch but her Chaos tingles milliseconds before her skin registers the contact and Tissaia knows she is safe. Only one mage’s Chaos interacts with her own to create little fireworks that visibly spark when they lie in the dark, running their hands over one another’s bodies. Rita’s arms slip round her waist, her fingers interlacing over Tissaia’s diaphragm, a thumb just brushing the underside of a breast. The younger mage murmurs,

“You were watching me today when I was teaching… were you checking up on me?”

Tissaia shakes her head slightly, resting her hands on Rita’s forearms and stroking the downy gold hair there, tracing the constellation of freckles with her fingertip, “No…I was trying to understand how you manage to be warm without losing the respect of your students…I always end up so cold, so stern when I’m teaching.”

Her voice is matter of fact, but Rita knows its cadences and nuances well enough to hear the regret in it. She hooks her chin over Tissaia’s shoulder, turns them so they face the full-length mirror,

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do. The way so many students do. You are resolute, powerful, mesmerising… the world would throw itself at your feet if you commanded it.”

Tissaia’s frown deepens, “But it would not fall into my arms seeking comfort.”

Rita locks eyes with her in the mirror, pulling her tighter against her chest, “Perhaps not. But yours would be the hand it reached for when it needed lifting back up again after those arms had let go. Not only because it trusts you, because it knows you are capable, but because it knows you will always be there when needed.” The younger mage presses a gentle kiss to Tissaia’s neck, smiling against the crook of her jaw, “And your arms are full at the moment so the world can fuck right off.”

Tissaia tuts at the profanity, her eyebrows arching but she melts helplessly as Rita husks in her ear, “You’re mine, and I know just how _warm_ you can get.”

Tissaia blushes and leans her head back against Rita’s shoulder, inhaling the neroli scent of her blonde hair. Catching sight of her flushed face and bright eyes in the mirror, watching the dimpled smile stretch across her normally stony features, Tissaia realises something. It is not that she is cold and unfeeling, it is that only one person has the power to release her feelings, to coax the warmth from the glowing embers of her heart. And Tissaia is so very glad that she has found her.


End file.
